


Shatter

by childishillusions, Crexendo



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betrayal, F/M, Insanity, M/M, Mass Destruction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-08 08:25:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3202361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childishillusions/pseuds/childishillusions, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crexendo/pseuds/Crexendo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They wanted peace. Kurosaki Ichigo had finally convinced the ruler of Hueco Mundo, Aizen Sousuke, to make peace with the Seireitei. They arranged a meeting with the Central 46, and the Captains, and they were to put a stop to the fighting. But Ichigo never expected to be betrayed by those he had thought to be his friends and allies. Aizen is taken and before Ichigo has a chance to protest, explain that he's not under some sort of hypnosis caused by Aizen’s Zanpakuto, the Lord of Las Noches is sentenced to death and executed by means of the Sokyouku. The man he loved was gone, taken from him, nothing left of him anywhere, and something inside Ichigo breaks. In the span of a single day, Ichigo brings the entirely of the Seireitei to its knees, those surviving knowing now the true terror of the former hero’s rage. But Ichigo’s not going to stop here, not when the only way to bring back his lover is sitting in a throne high above somewhere. He intends to bring the entire world down and build something new atop the rubble. No matter who he has to hurt, no matter what he has to destroy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disintegration

**Author's Note:**

> Again, something that my beloved Kay-chan and I wrote together, edited by me! This one is one of my favorites~ Kay-chan came up with the initial idea, and we roleplayed it for a while, and then I edited it so it flowed better as a fanfic. We LOVE AiIchi and Ichi-abuse! We're terrible people, but oh, it's so much fun.
> 
> Anywho, this is one of our darker, more angst ridden fics, AND IT'S TOTALLY FULL OF MY PERSONAL HEADCANONS, BUT I REALLY HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT. 
> 
> Please, please, please leave me comments, I loooove to read them! If you have any ideas, or things you might like to see, please let me know!
> 
> Without further ado, LET'S BEGIN!

_“Aizen Sousuke, for the crimes of mass murder, treachery and high treason against the Soul King, you will be executed. This sentence is to be carried out immediately.” The head of the Central Forty-Six pronounced, a smug aura radiating from every one of the newly minted members of the illustrious council._

"Ichigo . . . Hey, Ichigo!" 

_“Let him go! Sousuke came under a flag of truce, to end the fighting! Why . . . Why would you do this…?! Please… Ukitake-taichou, Toushiro…! You must know this… please!” Ichigo begged, light brown eyes red rimmed, the berry’s voice a hoarse shout, as he had been trying to get someone, anyone, to listen to him since he had been ‘rescued’ several days ago._

“Ichigo!”

_“Kurosaki-kun, you are under that man’s illusions. Once he is killed, they will break, and you will go back to normal. Your words and actions up to this point will not be held against you.” The speaker rumbled, pity so very apparent in his eyes._

“Kurosaki!”

_Aizen didn’t flinch or cry out once as the flames of the Sokyouku engulfed him, and his face was set in a proud, neutral expression as his soul was burned away to nothingness. Except at the end, where a strange, beatific smirk played on his face, he looked down at the hysterical substitute Shinigami and whispered, “Release.”_

_Ichigo went deathly still as that final word flowed over his ears, and after a moment, his head lolled forward so he knelt on the ground, the angle and the ends of his hair hiding any emotion or expression that might have been displayed on his face. What those gathered around to watch the death of ‘the traitor’ didn’t see was the small, dark smile that appeared on his lips, the darkening of his sclera, and the brilliant golden glow of his irises._

“Kurosaki-san!”

_He attacked, smashing the Bakudo bonds that had previously held him, and taking everyone by surprise. It was as though the moment Aizen Sousuke died, all of the man’s fury and ferocity had been poured into the previously gentle and noble teen and set free. Their blood was a balm for his maddened mind, their screams music to his shattered heart. Central Forty-Six looked so much more attractive bathed in its members’ blood, the walls so decoratively painted deep crimson, in the orange haired male’s opinion. It was laughable, really, how the majority of the lieutenants tried to take him down en masse on order of the Soutaicho, like they had that time, the last time he’d been trying to stop an unjust execution._

_It did hurt a little, shockingly little, to kill Renji and Rukia, but they had helped take Sousuke from him. They’d known just how close he’d gotten to the so-called ‘traitor’, and they’d chosen to believe the lie the governors of Soul Society had put forth, as they couldn’t bring themselves to believe that their greatest potential weapon had chosen to side against them of his own free will, their mistrust and hatred for the Lord of Las Noches too deeply rooted in them for them to see past it. They, like so many others, had watched him be dragged along, bound and screaming, begging for help from what he thought were his friends, with eyes full of nothing but pity and worry._

“Hey, Ichigo, snap out of it!”

A part of him heard Kenpachi's voice, and the others, calling his name, but most of him was lost in a cloud of dark thoughts, bloodlust, and the sweet sake he'd pilfered from the wreckage of the Seireitei. He sat on a jagged spire of white rock and drank from the long necked bottle, nearly purring with a sort of sick delight, his two Zanpakutos, his true swords, embedded in the stone beside him.

**"Ichigo!"**

This time, the voice caught his attention, and he glanced over at the small group of surviving Shinigami; Yumichika, Yachiru, Hanatarou, Kenpachi, Ikkaku, Shinji and the other Vizards, with his still gold-on-black eyes. They were all milling around below him, some sitting, some standing, some pointedly not looking at the carnage around them, some looking uncomfortable, but all were somewhat battered and bloodied.

He'd spared the Vizards, because, as much as they hated Aizen, they had stated time and again, that they weren't allies of the Shinigami, even after being granted their positions back, but that they were HIS allies, his friends and followers, and in his time of need, they hadn't let him down. The thought was slightly comforting amid the dwindling insanity and returning agony. Yachiru and his other friends in the 11th Division . . . once he had told them why, why he was covered in blood, why he was killing, she joined him, as had Kenpachi, Ikkaku, and Yumichika. There was a reason, he supposed, that he had a fond spot for the unruly, untamed Division. Hanatarou had been a surprise though, the kid had a lot more guts than anyone gave him credit for, and quite frankly, Ichigo had been impressed.

He lowered the bottle a little. "What?" he said, voice devoid of any emotion.

"Now that we're done making a mess . . . what's next? Where do we go from here?" Yumichika asked, voicing the question they all had in mind, gesturing with a hand out towards the smoldering wreckage of what was once the center of power between the three realms.

The place was completely destroyed, the bloodied bodies of Shinigami scattered everywhere, every major structure within the walls in pieces. Sokyoku Hill was missing it’s tip, where the execution ground had been, and the massive stone formation bore several deep depressions in it from randomly fired Getsuga Tenshou’s. There was virtually nothing left that made it recognizable at first glance, virtually no one but them left standing. There were a few dying screams that echoed through the air, but soon enough, those too, disappeared.

Ichigo thought about it for a long while, downing more of the sake, offhandedly wondering if it had once been one of Kyouraku’s. "Well . . . if we stick around here long enough, I bet the Zero Division will show up . . . . I'd like to avoid them for the time being." he replied dryly. "And this place . . . it was a lot of fun to tear it apart . . . but now the sight of it makes me sick . . . . We’ll go to Hueco Mundo. To Las Noches. The Arrancar there are loyal to me."

They all were reminded at that moment that Ichigo had spent over four years in and out of the Hollow’s realm, making sure they knew their place, making sure that Aizen stayed in check, or, at least, that’s what most of the Seireitei had thought he was doing. They had no clue that the young male had been pressuring the Lord of Las Noches into letting go of his plan, and laying down his weapons for the sake of the future, and subsequently falling in love with that same man. It was harrowing to look at Ichigo now, the remaining shreds of his shihakusho soaked in blood, his Hollow eyes gleaming almost too vividly in the fading dusk, and remember what he’d been like back then.

Yumichika nodded in agreement about getting as far from this ugly and cowardly ruin as possible, and fairly soon. “If that what you think is best. But none of us can work a Senkaimon to Hueco Mundo, and none of us have the equipment or abilities to create a Garganta.” 

The sunburst haired male dropped the bottle, now empty, and watched it fall and shatter on the ground, before he rose to his feet and pulled his swords out of the stone and jumped down to their level. Walking up to them, he spoke emotionlessly, “Don’t worry about that, Sousuke taught me how to do it.” Ichigo concentrated for a moment as he slashed his right hand through the air, and the characteristic screech of a Garganta sounded through the air as the black portal opened. “Kenpachi, either you or me needs to go in first, as it takes energy to make the path through, an’ it helps if you have a bunch so that it doesn’t crumble behind you. Everyone should pair up according to their current levels of reiatsu, a stronger one with a weaker one.”

The former 11th Division captain nodded, remembering his own trip through a Garganta. “Alright. Hanatarou… You’re with me.”

“Yes, Zaraki-taichou.” The young reaper confirmed.

“Call me Kenpachi. Or Zaraki. I ain’t a taichou anymore, kid. Let’s get moving.” The powerful male rumbled, hauling himself back onto his feet and moving off into the dark maw that waited to swallow them into the next world.

Shinji had ahold of a bloodstained and slightly tipsy orangette. The last thing they needed was Ichigo to fall off the path and be lost to them forever. Especially since he was the one who opened the damn thing in the first place. Predictably, Yumichika and Ikkaku stuck together, and everyone else quickly paired off. One by one the pairs slipped into the Garganta, with Kenpachi at the front, and Ichigo and Shinji heading off the rear. 

Ichigo's narrow hollowfied eyes watched the ruined scene behind him as the portal closed. He flinched when the entrance disappeared completely. It was as though the final thread that had connected him to Aizen had been severed. Part of him wanted to scream and shriek until his voice gave out, another part of him wanted to curl up in the darkness and hide away from all the pain, and yet, another part of him wanted to just shove his own Zanpakutos through his chest and end it all to go where Sousuke was. 

He could scarcely imagine the reactions of the Arrancar who were undoubtedly impatiently awaiting their return, when they learned of the Shinigami’s treachery, and what they had done to their lord. Their rage would shake the earth, and their bloodlust and thirst for revenge would fill the sky. While they had feared and resented their lord at first, Ichigo had tempered him and his presence had made Aizen much more approachable, less manipulative, less secretive. They’d come to respect and acknowledge the man as their king, and followed him willingly. 

Ichigo especially dreaded Gin’s reaction. Gin was more or less Aizen’s child, he’d taken him in when he’d been so young, and trained him, raised him, and the silver haired man looked up to and adored him like a son would his father. To suddenly have that parental presence in his life ripped away . . . he felt as though it might break the man as it had broken him. He knew Gin loved Aizen just as much as he did, albeit in a completely different way, and was way more cryptic and unforthcoming about it. He’d seen it in the man’s eyes when the Lord of Las Noches praised him, or took time out of his day to spar, or have tea with him, that spark of joy in those icy blue orbs . . . . 

He shuddered, not relishing at all the task he had to perform, but there was no way he could hand it off to anyone else. He owed that much to Sousuke, at least.


	2. Devistation

Gin became increasingly agitated as time rolled onwards. He hadn’t liked this idea of trying to make peace with the Shinigami from the very beginning, because he knew, better than anyone else except Aizen-sama, what the Seireitei was really like, how quick they were to turn and pass judgment, without mercy or a second of remorse. While he understood the reasoning behind it, and understood Ichigo’s feelings of longing for his friends and family, and his desire for them and the man he loved to be at peace, he did not trust the Shinigami to honor any sort of treaty or pact they made. Ichigo and Aizen had gone alone, without taking any Arrancar or anyone else with them, to avoid antagonizing the Shinigami in any way. Realistically, Gin knew that there were no stronger Shinigami than the two who had walked through the Senkaimon with calm smiles on their faces, but he worried about the fact that Aizen had purposefully left Kyouka Suigetsu behind, he felt as though his foster father had left himself terribly exposed.

He’d been wandering the halls since his lord and his lord’s lover had left for the Seireitei, in an attempt to distract himself from his dark and gloomy thoughts, but as time wore on, and there was no word from anyone about the situation, his dread and sense of foreboding steadily increased. He’d come to the throne room, massive and simplistically ornate, but rarely actually used any longer, only to find most of the Espada there as well, doing the exact same thing he was doing, trying to stave off their desire to defy the express orders given to them to stay put and going to demand their lord and his consort back, consequences be damned.

He set about pacing around the room, murmuring a greeting to those he passed. Ulquiorra glanced at him, Grimmjow hissed back, Harribel merely nodded, and the rest didn’t respond. His agitation had all of them upset to some degree, and from what it looked like, Grimmjow and Nnoitra, both of whom did not get along with one another, and didn’t exactly worship Aizen at the same level as some others, though they still respected his power, were ready to tear into the Seireitei, and demand to know where their leader, their Aizen-sama and his mate Ichigo were, because they should have at least checked in by now… the thoughts of what might have happened had been tormenting many, and the rest took to pacing in endless circles and whispering plots of what they would do if there was the slightest whisper of dissention or deceit from Soul Society on the honest, and well intentioned cease fire.

Then… a thick wave of reiatsu pulsed through the area, and a Garganta appeared tearing open the fabric of the realm, revealing an _enormous_ shinigami, with a much smaller one beside him, both were bloody and very, very grim. Immediately, the Espada reacted to the perceived threat, their own spiritual pressures skyrocketing. They did not attack, not just yet, seeing as the two Shinigmai made no move to start a fight, make a threat, or even raise their power. It also struck a few of the strongest Arrancar as odd that they had come through a _Garganta_ of all things.

“What the fuck?!” Nnoitra snarled.

“What is the meaning of this?” Harribel called out strongly, coming forward a bit, to stand next to Ulquiorra, Starrk rising to his feet to join them, Lilinette close at his side. The four of them stood in front of the others, the Tres Espada with her hand out to hold anyone from moving.

“Why have you come here?” Ulquiorra asked pointedly, his emerald colored gaze never wavering, nor changing.

The hulking beast of a Shinigami looked at them with unnaturally solemn eyes. “Ichigo should tell you.” Was all he said before he and the slight male by his side moved away from the portal to let others through. They recognized the ones known as the Vizards, their half-Hollow cousins, they were blood splattered and dour like the other two, an almost haunted look about them. 

Immeasurable dread filled Gin as he watched people he’d known in one era of his life, people he never expected to have to interact with again, filed into the throne room. At the end of the line, a blond Vizard was supporting a partially Hollowfied and unsteady Ichigo, who looked even more battered than everyone else, with his shihakusho in shredded tatters, what was left of it was caked in blood, dirt, and his skin almost coated in cracking, flaking red-brown splatters. To most of them, if they couldn’t feel his reiatsu, they would have assumed he was dead.

“Ichigo-sama!”

“Ichigo!”

“Kurosaki-sama!”

There were suddenly the voices of the Arrancar that followed him and his lover, pounding against his senses in a frenzied clamor, shattering the stunned silence that had fallen over the room, questions on Aizen’s whereabouts, demands for explanations, concerns for his wellbeing, inquiries about what happened while he was gone, why were there Shinigami and Vizards with him…? But as the seconds wore on, the only question became, “Where is Aizen-sama? What happened to Aizen-sama?”

“He’s dead!” Ichigo yelled, before anyone could ask any more questions. “HE’S DEAD!” he threw his head back and screamed it this time, and shoving Shinji away from him. “THEY KILLED HIM!” He felt his insanity rising up again, but as quickly as it came, it faded again, leaving a feeling of cold emptiness, of absolute desolation in its wake. He started to shake and the tears he had yet to shed started to fill his eyes, “Sousuke is… dead…!” he whispered, just before he collapsed to his knees, trying his hardest not to let the sobs welling at the back of his throat escape. He couldn’t break now… not now… not like this….

There was more silence. For a long time, nothing could be heard except the soft, echoing cries of their lord’s lover, no one could find their voices to say anything, no one could form words to express their feelings. Most were unsure how they actually did feel. Shock. Anger. Despair. Confusion. Horror. It was all a jumbled mess, but eventually, most of them settled on pure unadulterated _fury._

"Wha ... What the _fuck?!_ " Grimmjow eventually growled from the back of his throat, breaking the viscous quiet. "They fucking _lied_ to us ... ?! They ... they _killed_ him?! Those… bastards!" it was all he could get out without roaring all of his rage and ferocity until his throat was raw. It wasn’t so much Aizen’s death that infuriated the blue haired Sexta, it was more that so much _hope_ , strange as it sounded, rode on this treaty. He may not have liked or gotten along with the former brunet king, but he respected and genuinely liked Ichigo. The young mixed breed human had been so hopeful… so eager to end the fighting… so ready to see his friends and his family again… and to see him now, shattered, in tears… **that** was what filled him with white hot wrath. 

Most of the other Arrancar gathered in the throne room felt the same, most of their reiatsu's radiated untold amounts of anger and lust for blood, exploding out of them in thick waves, the pressure in the room dramatically increasing.

Amid the chaos, even through his tears, Ichigo looked for the tall, slender form of his lover’s right hand, if only to make sure he was still in the room. Gin was … doing nothing. Absolutely nothing. He’d taken in the news Ichigo had been terrified of giving him with an expression that was even more blank than usual, his skin a few shades paler, ice colored eyes giving away nothing, cold and dark as they normally were when visible. There was an unnatural stillness about him, as the air was practically tearing itself apart around him from the maelstrom of emotions and reiatsu, he did not move, hardly seemed to even be breathing. 

This was Aizen’s work he was seeing. The rigorous training Gin had received in controlling his emotions, schooling his expression to show only what he wanted to be seen, that which had turned him into the perfect liar, a master manipulator, whose only equal had been the lord himself. Ichigo knew that Gin was pouring everything he knew into holding himself together, if only for his pride’s sake, but he also knew that soon enough, Gin would reach his limit, his façade would break, and the fallout of it would truly be something terrible to behold. 

Seeing Gin, holding on resolutely, despite the agony he must be feeling, even if it was merely a fragile state of being, trembling on the edge of breaking apart, helped set in reality again. Forcing himself back up onto his feet, he took in a few deep, though still slightly shaky breaths, harshly reigning his emotions back into check. "The Shinigami…. They're all dead.... And if they're not... they will be soon. The Seireitei is in ruins, and there is no possible way the Shinigami will be able to rebuild. Even if they did... they'd be easily crushed." The former hero said flatly, his eyes narrow, emotionless, the air about him cold and harsh. His tears were dried up now, as was a great deal of his former self. That empty, hollow, depthless feeling had returned, such was the space that Sousuke had filled with his presence. "I... will not allow the Shinigami to rise again. I will never let them hold that name again."

“There’s still one major force that would oppose you, from realizing that.” Hiyori snapped, meaning for it to be merely a reminder, though unintentionally garnering the attention of every last being in the room. 

The youngest Vizard was quiet for a moment, staring at the girl in the red track suit… and then it hit him, along with the rest of the room.

“You talkin’ about those Royal Guard bastards? The ones who are supposedly stronger than all of the Gotei Thirteen, but sat on their lily white asses as Aizen first embarrassed the hell out of them… and then Ichigo and the rest of us trashed the place?” Kenpachi responded, putting it all together very succinctly. He did have some intelligence, he had to in order to be a captain… He simply enjoyed a good brawl.

“Aizen-sama had mentioned them a couple of times to us… who they were, and what was known of their powers at the time.” Hallibel informed them, “He stated that the Zero Division would not step in, until we directly confronted them in the royal dimension. Do you believe that such would change now?”

“A-All the Shinigami that came at us, who didn’t join us, or surrender were k-killed. The city is almost completely leveled do to the cero that Ichigo-san managed to produce…” Hanataro responded, speaking up for the first time since they’d arrived. He had been stunned at the amount of power that the orange haired teen had produced, but at the same time, the healer would have expected nothing less from the teen who had led the charge, looking back to that time when they’d first met, when he had been much weaker and ill-informed on what he was about to face, and still managed to emerge victorious.

The teen’s driving force had always been love and an intense loyalty to those whom he had cared for. It had been clear to the group that he had dearly, and truly loved Aizen, and Aizen, treacherous and a bastard though he had been… loved Ichigo as much and as tenderly as the orange haired crossbreed had him… could such rage and destruction have been wrought otherwise?

Ichigo stumbled over to the foot of what had been his lover's throne, and put his back against it, looking up into the brightly lit ceiling above. "I'll take them down, too. What kind of leaders let their underlings die merely because they don't see it as their responsibility...? Just thinking about them..." his massive, dark reiatsu pulsed with heavy Hollow energy, faint tremors rippling through the ground, "makes me want to... makes me want to...." he couldn't find the words to express the depths of his pain and fury, to accurately articulate his morbid thoughts as to what he would do if he got his hands on the Zero Division, so he ended up trailing off into silence, his gold-on-black eyes continuing to stare upwards. Silence enveloped the room, as everyone waited for their new leader to say something... anything. They were just as lost as he was, if not more so, and he was the only means of guidance they had at this point.

Eventually, Ichigo sighed. "We'll deal with the Zero Division later.... For right now... I need to…." The hollowness that had been creeping up on him for a while now threatened to consume him. He had burned a truly incredible amount of energy, and now that his battle-psyche had worn off, he was beginning to feel the fallout of it. Every muscle in his body pulsed with pain, like it had been shredded, and his bones felt as though they were going to snap at any moment. The only reason he was still standing was the tall marble throne he was currently leaning against. His reiatsu's size and density was rapidly beginning to drop as his consciousness was starting to fade.

Shinji and the Sexta Espada saw him wavering, felt his sudden decline, and appeared at his sides just in time to catch him with his arms over their shoulders as he collapsed, slumping lifelessly into their hold.

Hanatarou immediately ran up to the Shinigami hybird and did a quick examination with his own reiatsu. "Get him into a bed, now." he declared in a steely voice. “His body is seriously overtaxed, and I can’t treat him like this.”

Not sparing a second to think about the normal division between their two races, Shinji and Grimmjow, followed by Hanatarou, with Harribel leading the way, carried off their now unconscious leader into the depths of Las Noches. After a few seconds of hesitation, Gin slipped out after them, along with Ulquiorra.

Kenpachi looked around at the remaining Arrancar and Espada, and let out a grunt, “So, what are we supposed to do?”

Starrk looked over at the bedraggled bunch of surviving Shinigami, there were about a dozen of them or so, and let out a deep, soul-biting sigh of his own, “You might as well make yourselves comfortable. You fought with Ichigo… so I doubt anyone would try to attack you, but just to be safe until the kid wakes up, you can make yourselves at home in my wing.” Lilynette pressed herself up against his side, and he put a hand on her head to ruffle her hair as he felt the echoes of distress coming from her, echoes of his own, “I can show you the way,”

He didn’t feel like adding the _‘ **if** Ichigo wakes up’_ bit… at this point, he didn’t think anyone could even fathom the thought of losing the brilliant sun that was Kurosaki Ichigo, he who had brought down the great Shinigami empire down in a single day. 

There were sure to be survivors, but they could wait.

They would all have to wait.


End file.
